


Crazy in Love

by pipecleanerFlowers



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: M/M, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2014-01-09
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:30:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pipecleanerFlowers/pseuds/pipecleanerFlowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two things:<br/>1) Durbe is tentatively dating Mizael.<br/>2) Durbe only partially regrets the decision to room with his boyfriend and his long-time friend-enemy hybrid known as Vector who still attempts to woo him.</p><p>Alas, Vector was leaning farther to the crazy side of the ‘mental state’ scale to just give up, so of course Durbe should have expected the second thing. Cue a life of long-suffering and generally unsatisfied hormones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Still in Love (Kissing You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wristrocket](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wristrocket/gifts).



> Happy ZEXALmas Willis! //throws attractive morons at you.

The normal reaction to such events as had just passed would have been to scream. Maybe cry a little. Perhaps even curl into the fetal position and whimper for a few minutes before a half-hearted attempt to collect oneself. However, Vector did none of these things for he was way too cool and collected and leaning farther to the crazy side of the ‘mental state’ scale to do such things when walking in on his two roommates intertwined and moaning on the couch. Instead he turned on his heel and stomped out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m going to open up the door in five seconds and whatever you two are doing on the couch better be over,” Vector shouted at the closed door. He could hear muffled voices and the faint rustle of clothes and grimaced. It was the fourth time this had happened this week and he was absolutely done with their antics. The last thing he cared about was treating their tentative (on Durbe’s side) and hormonal (on Mizael’s side) relationship with any kind of patience or respect.

 _Five… four… three… two… one._ “I’m opening the door, your limbs better be untangled and the room better fucking smell like daisies, assholes,” Vector called through the door again before kicking it open with all the gusto of a man about to harass the poor clerks working at customer service.

“Uhm, hey Vector,” Durbe finally said, and Vector noted with a smirk that his glasses were askew on his nose and his face was flushed a deep red. Wouldn’t he like to be the cause of that effect. “Sorry about that.”

“Sorry my ass, jerk-offs. The couch is something we’ve already discussed as off-limits for,” here Vector coughed as if to maintain his non-existent innocence, “physical activities.”

“Yeah,” Mizael countered, “like you weren’t the reason for that rule in the first place, asshole.”

Vector sneered judgmentally at Mizael’s disheveled hair, something that normally looked like it was fresh from the salon. “Fuck off, I’ve kept off of it so what makes you two the exception?” He crossed his arms and casually began to drum his fingers on his jacket sleeves. “At least I can reign in my hormones enough to get to the bedroom.”

Mizael opened his mouth to retort at his cockblocking and intrusive roommate, but it was at this moment that Durbe looked at the time, squawked at the time, and grabbed the books strewn across the coffee table in a rush to pack his messenger.

“I’m late for class!” A beat, then he corrected himself: “You made me late for class!”

Mizael rolled his eyes. “I told you to skip.”

“And I told you I’m a TA, I can’t just skip Mizael.”

Durbe grabbed his scarf from the table and began wrapping it around his neck and nearly left the apartment when Vector hooked his hand over his shoulder and silkily reminded him, “You need to put your shirt back on, idiot.”

Durbe turned a deep red and his hand flew off the doorknob like it was a hot potato before he whipped around in a panic. Mizael huffed in defeat and unsatisfied hormones and then threw his t-shirt and vest at him.

“Put them on and go, we’ll finish up later,” Mizael said, a sly smile curving up at the second part as he watched the skin he had been all over just minutes ago disappear under thin cotton.

Vector dragged a hand down his face as his lips turned down and his nose quirked up in disgust. “At least take him out to dinner, have you guys even done that yet? Fucking hell, I may be a jerk, but at least I’d treat him every so often and wouldn’t eat his face off every single time I kiss him.”

“What--” Mizael sputtered. “I don’t--”

The door shut with a loud shudder, but neither of the two arguing boys noticed that the object of their discussion had left said discussion -- not that Durbe had been an active participant in any degree of the word, but the feeling that he would have been dragged into it for opinion purposes about Mizael’s kissing skills was as strong as his need to get the class, and the latter formed the perfect excuse to duck out of the former.

Vector snickered. “I should record it one day just so you can see how disgusting you are. It’s almost funny how you lack any and all ability to be gentle with a kid like Durbe.”

“You’re younger than him!”

“So?” A smirk spread across Vector’s lips as he finally kicked off his shoes and began walking into the dorm they all shared. “He’s still innocent and lovely and deserves more than a guy who only has one mode of physical appreciation, which is rough and needy.”

Mizael reddened. “I’m not that bad!”

Vector shrugged as he bent over and began inspecting the couch. “I’m better, but that’s a given.”

Mizael’s hands clenched into fists and Vector counted down the seconds to his inevitable strangled sound of indignation that came right on cue. “You’re impossible! If I didn’t know any better I’d say you purposely come home when you know--”

Vector straightened his back and grinned, and on him the expression couldn’t look any less maniacal. Mizael bristled at the expression, having never witnessed it without being thrown off-kilter and forgetting the ends of his sentences. Vector loved that his faced scared people when he wanted it to.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you view me as competition, which of course I am since I’m pretty damn flawless,” Vector said, grin widening as an eyebrow arched upwards. “What do you say to that?”

Mizael stood still, words having been utterly taken away him at that unnerving look his roommate insisted on putting him under. His eyes shot down to the floor to avoid it and found his attention focused in on a scratch in the hardwood. “Durbe would never think of you like that, so why would I ever have to worry?” Mizael muttered.

“All I said was that you suck at being a boyfriend and that I’d be better,” Vector said, beginning his ascent up the three steps toward his bedroom, holding his arms out in an exaggerated shrug. “You could take some notes from my dating skillage, little boy.”

Mizael whipped around, hair flailing dramatically behind him and lips ready to spout out a retort, when Vector disappeared into his room and shut the door. Too late.

Vector laughed quietly to himself as he opened up his laptop to get some homework done before he’d inevitably be interrupted with Mizael’s next attempt at wooing Durbe into bed. Or, well, the couch. He hoped to the higher powers out there that they wouldn’t touch the couch -- and if Vector knew anything at all, it was that Durbe wouldn’t like a repeat of this afternoon even though Mizael liked the confrontations in some masochistic way (seriously, Vector always owned in their arguments by embarrassing the poor kid).

A little over an hour later, Durbe could be heard dragging himself through the door to their apartment and kicking his shoes into the rack and falling onto the couch that had been the start of his problems that day. Mizael could be heard walking toward him and murmuring something low. Vector grinned. Time to get to work on that recording he so graciously promised.

Maybe then Durbe would realize the mistake he made in choosing Mizael over him.

\--:~:--

Days later when Vector would show him the tape, Durbe would stutter and redden and smack Vector all before stomping out of the apartment in embarrassment and shame with the excuse of office hours that Vector knew for a fact weren’t on Wednesdays.

 


	2. ***Flawless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear Beyonce's new album is the inspiration for everything that is in this fic because it's all I've been listening to while writing.  
> So yeah, all the chapter titles are from her songs JSYK.

Pajamas were something that weren’t necessary for everyone. Mizael had designer slippers and fancy pajama sets that he bought from sophisticated stores because he was a high-maintenance brat. Durbe used old university tees that had been through too many washes and had exactly three pairs of pajama pants that he cycled through, all plaid and all on sale from the nearest outlet mall because he was a grad student on a tight, debt-induced budget. Vector, however, had a room that rivalled the Middle Eastern climate in the spring and summer, partly because of his refusal to hitch up the bills by turning on the air conditioning in his room. Because of these completely changeable circumstances, which were ignored for the sake of monetary savings, Vector normally just stripped to his boxers.

And that was how Mizael and Durbe learned that Vector was a morning person. Well, that, and the fact that he has washboard abs and really nice calves.

It was October, to be exact, so the weather should logically have gotten him to at least wear pants in bed, or a t-shirt or something, but alas Vector was leaning farther to the crazy side of the ‘mental state’ scale to do such things. Both Durbe and Mizael still hadn’t quite gotten used to the fact that a very toned and very attractive body belonging to their very crazy roommate liked to roam around the kitchen every Sunday making pancakes. Of course they gawked at him, and Vector was only vaguely aware of this fact because he was usually too busy worrying about burning something (he never had and he wanted to maintain that perfect record).

Vector had early morning classes three days out of the week, so he usually left before Mizael bothered to rise from his beauty sleep and before Durbe stumbled out of his room with numb legs from sitting and marking papers too long. This meant that Durbe and Mizael only got to witness Vector’s shameless strutting around half-naked maybe four days a week, if that (because Mizael was a lazy fucker who was also secretly extremely jealous of Vector so he slept until he literally couldn’t stand lying around any longer).

Of course, Mizael should have probably thought about the consequences of ignoring his boyfriend who hung around his half-naked competition in the mornings because both of them were morning-people (Durbe less so than Vector if only because he hated staying up late so he compensated for missed marking-time by waking up at ungodly hours). Both of them being morning people meant that they spent at least a quarter of the day awake at the same time, quite possibly engaging in conversation and flirting.

Really, Durbe might have been the most innocent person in the house, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy eye-candy whenever it so willingly presented itself to him. And for as much as Vector was a total asshole with a bit of a god complex and a tendency to embarrass the ever-loving dignity out of both Durbe and Mizael, the former still found himself able to tolerate Vector on occasion. These occasions just happened to be when Vector was shirtless in the mornings, and also when he cooked food for them, and these things just happened to coincide with each other sometimes.

And that sometimes was getting to happen more and more often and Durbe didn’t really notice this because it was the morning and he was tired and sue him for gawking over the roommate he had turned down.

“Blueberries or chocolate chips?”

“Blueberries,” Durbe answered, brain on automatic as he marked last week’s quizzes from his seminar. The kids in his class weren’t stupid, but the marks were getting worse as the semester wore on. He blamed the first round of midterms. He never quite understood why science majors had two rounds of midterms and a final on top of that. The only suitable answer was that the professors were sadists and liked seeing the students suffer. However, Durbe needed a certain percentage of his class to pass lest they look to him when they assess the teaching ability of those in charge of the class. He didn’t want to lose his only income.

He didn’t quite realize that Vector was leaning over his shoulder until a toned arm wrapped itself over his shoulders. “So, what are you marking this time?”

Durbe attempted to shut the blood vessels that led to his face with less than stellar results. “J-just a quiz my students did last week. I promised them back by tomorrow.”

“Cool,” Vector hummed, elongating the singular vowel, and Durbe could feel the word breath onto his neck and the dams that hadn’t been that effective only a moment earlier broke and his face turned scarlet.

“Not really, the marks are steadily getting worse. The prof isn’t gonna like it.”

“Not your problem, dude.” Vector pulled away from Durbe in order to flip the blueberry pancakes over. “Let them suffer. It’s more fun that way.”

“Yeah, but it also means all the effort I put into teaching and aiding them is pointless.”

It was moments like this when Vector remembered exactly how helpful and caring Durbe really is and how much he wanted to have that niceness all to himself because others were undeserving of it.

Durbe sighed. His pancakes were almost done. Minutes later, Vector tossed them into a haphazard pile on a plate and slid it across the counter. “Stop stressing and eat some faux-healthy carbs, also known as comfort food. Pancakes cure everything.”

“So does tea. And chocolate.”

“Mmm…” Vector licked his lips and Durbe most definitely did not stare as he did so. “I think I’ll go for chocolate chips then. Double the cure, double the awesome for the rest of the fucking day. Best plan, right?”

Durbe nodded as he began to dig into his pancakes. “Right.”

Half an hour later found the time at noon and Mizael could be heard stumbling about (gracefully, he once argued) in his bedroom before bursting through his door looking like he just got off the runway. Durbe would have laughed at his insistence on constantly looking perfect, except he kind of found the immense effort a little endearing and didn’t want to add to the ridicule he went through under Vector’s sharp and unforgiving tongue.

“Morning princess, do you want pancakes?”

Mizael sat down at the island next to Durbe, careful not to move any of the paper that surrounded the stressed TA since last time it had resulted in a lot of shouting and the tearing of hair. Yep, Mizael definitely didn’t want to go through that again. “Sure, pancakes sound good.”

“Blueberries or chocolate?”

“Neither, I have plans to dunk them into a plate of maple syrup. Did I mention I had my parents import some over for us? The real stuff, from Canada.”

Vector rolled his eyes at the obvious display of money, but at the same time he loved maple syrup too much to sass Mizael out and risk the confiscation of his fair share of maple syrup. “Sounds good.”

It was this moment that Mizael finally looked at Durbe, his beloved boyfriend, properly, and subsequently realized that Durbe still hadn’t looked at him. Or talked to him. Following the gaze of the grey eyes he liked so much, the crushing realization that they were glued to Vector’s biceps was a little (read: really really _really_ ) defeating.

But of course he came to this realization every Sunday. Mizael still hadn’t gotten used to it and it was the main reason that he was so convinced that Vector was doing this to aggravate him and that Vector totally knew he was competition and liked to milk it to the nth degree. However, the fact remained that Durbe was sleeping with Mizael (okay maybe they still hadn’t quite gotten there since Vector remained a very comedically-timed and irritating cockblock) and not Vector so Mizael felt like he was winning in that aspect. Which, to be quite honest, was the entire point, because dating meant the blossoming of a relationship, something which Vector wanted from Durbe and didn’t have from Durbe. So Mizael, by that logic, was winning.

He was still bitter about the fact that he understood why Durbe stared so much at Vector though. Because damn. Just… damn.

Damn him to hell for being that fine without even fucking trying in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is ridiculous and self-satisfying; I'm only half-sorry.
> 
> Also it hasn't quite been a day yet but eff it, I posted the first chapter before I went to sleep so technically today is tomorrow screw time-stamps okay?? (I'm sure you're all fine with this, actually, haha less waiting)


	3. Blow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At this point I was on such a roll that I was like "yeah multi-chap Secret Santa fic GO"

Of course, as the valued reader has learned over the course of the previous chapters, Vector was leaning farther to the crazy side of the ‘mental state’ scale to really have enough sanity left to give a damn. So when he brought home his equally as crazy ex-turned-friend-with-benefits, Mizael had a hard time believing that they were really just playing Tekken in his room.

“Those sounds don’t sound like battle-cries,” he said to Durbe as he flicked on the full kettle.

Durbe shrugged from his spot at the table. “His life,” he said, “and he’s not doing it on the couch. We have two options, either get out of the apartment for a while or put up with whatever noises those actually are.”

It was a night in November, cold and dreary and a week before exams started. All of them were stressed beyond belief and all of them had their ways of dealing with that stress. Mizael drank copious amounts of tea from the expensive loose-leaf tea store at the mall. Durbe liked to sleep and generally attempt to ignore his problems, before waking up and facing them like a man with renewed vigour. Vector’s way of dealing with stress, however, involved a lot of… _ahem_ , physical activities.

As much as Durbe liked having Vector off his back when it came to the uncomfortably awkward flirting game that he and Mizael had wordlessly begun as soon as they moved in together, it made him feel a little odd to be replaced in times of need.

Then again, unless Durbe wanted to touch that heavenly body himself while at the same time dating Mizael and manage to come out of Vector's bedroom with a clean conscious, it was the perfectly logical thing for Vector to do. So while Vector felt up his ex in the room two doors down, he very much believed that sacrificing his flirting game with Durbe for immediate stress relief and, of course, pleasure, was probably the better option. If Durbe wasn't okay with it, neither was he.

Half an hour filled with noises from the room two doors down the hall and Durbe’s half-assed attempts to not imagine what actions the noises matched up to, Vector emerged from his bedroom with his crazy ex-turned-friend-with-benefits. She smiled, fingers trailing down his toned chest as they said their goodbyes at the threshold, and then she licked her lips, winked, and walked toward the front door, waving goodbye to both Durbe and Mizael before leaving the apartment for the night.

“Can’t even walk her to the door?” Mizael asked in an attempt to undermine Vector’s claims of being gentlemanly and chivalrous.

“The rules of a good boyfriend don’t apply to fuck-buddies,” Vector replied, rolling his shoulders back as he languidly made his way to the kitchen. “How’s studying going?” he asked, gesturing with a nod of his head toward the table that was littered with textbooks before leaning over Mizael to get to the kettle. “Did you just boil this or should I let it go another round?”

“You smell awful,” Mizael said, disregarding both questions.

Vector smirked. “Yeah, it’s called sex. Something you’re not getting.” He flicked the switch on the kettle as he watched Durbe redden with a kind of blatant satisfaction.

“I maintain that she’s crazy, of course she’d sleep with you.”

“I assure you there was no sleeping involved. Just good, old-fashioned, sex.”

Mizael was about three seconds away from making a strangled noise of frustration when Durbe spoke up and ruined Vector’s practiced countdown.

“Guys, you’re distracting. More distracting than whatever was happening in Vector’s room earlier. Shut up.”

Mizael opened his mouth in protest, but Durbe glared at him before he could make a sound. “No. Or else I’m kicking you both out for the purpose of a quiet study atmosphere.”

Vector snickered, his shoulders shuddering as he tried to muffle the sound. “You’ll have the kitchen to yourself once I get some tea,” he said to calm his irritated roommate as he picked out a teabag. Ginger Lemon. Good for the throat. “And if you need some de-stressing à la Vector, just knock on my door.” He began pouring the water into the mug and winked at Durbe as it filled. “You know where to find me.”

With that, he walked back out of the kitchen, shooting a lazy smirk at a very taken aback Mizael. Just before he closed his door, he heard Mizael screech, “Did he just offer you a--?”

\--:~:--

When Durbe knocked on Vector’s door later that evening after Mizael had retired to fulfill the requirements of his beauty sleep, Vector was pleased... until Durbe asked to use the printer in his room since his had run out of ink earlier that day.

The visit lasted less than five minutes, which involved setting Durbe’s laptop up with the printer, finding and opening the document, a singular complaint about the smell, a comment about how Febreeze shouldn’t be Vector’s enemy, and the actual printing of the document. When all of this was done, Durbe left Vector alone with the unfulfilled desire to throw the bespectacled boy onto his bed and do things to him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three guesses as to who the girl is.


	4. Déjà Vu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so difficult to do omg sorry if it's a step or few below the bar that I set for myself with the past three chapters!

The winter break starts off mostly uneventfully if the reader decides to ignore the author’s decision to exclude the night that Vector spiked everyone’s drinks right after Durbe’s last exam, which concluded their collective exam dates.

Let’s put it this way: Mizael absconded to his room because hiccups overtook his ability to talk properly (albeit the kind with drunken slurring, but hiccups were a far worse speech impediment) and he found that too embarrassing to stick around, and then Vector kissed Durbe.

The latter fact has been so far kept from Mizael at this point in the narrative. Durbe hoped to keep it that way. He also kind of wanted to kiss Vector again, except he refuses to think beyond that before mentally stamping out that particular train of thought.

It was a Sunday morning and Vector was making pancakes like usual because he claimed that pancakes were the best way to start off the week, and no one was about to argue him on that point because pancakes are awesome. Durbe was sitting at the table, at this point so used to waking up early that it only made sense to keep it going through the break. Both were silent, the only noise coming from the sizzle of the batter on the skillet. Vector was shirtless, as always, but with the winter weather came the addition of actual pants. Durbe attempted not to stare, as always.

It was as normal as a Sunday morning could get in their apartment, except Durbe no longer had homework or marking to distract himself with and found himself with nothing to draw his attention away from Vector’s body.

He was a naturally tan guy who looked like he got sun year-round, unlike Mizael whose skin was a few shades away from being paper white, and Durbe who was pale as can be and burned in the sun. It was weird though because Vector was a redhead, but once he’d explained that “No, Durbe, I’m a daywalker,” and then it kinda made a little sense that he could be tan and a redhead at the same time. And it was a very attractive combination.

Durbe suddenly felt the odd tug of the chains the tied him to Mizael. Except he was happy with how things were for the most part. If he could only erase that night… everything would be less confusing and maybe those chains would have never felt so uncomfortable.

“Blueberries or chocolate chips?”

“Chocolate chips. Did you want anything to drink?” Durbe asked, getting up to get a glass of water.

“Whatever you’re having.”

It was mornings like this that made everything feel so domestic, something he wasn’t sure he could have with Mizael because he was always so passionate (whether in a negative or positive way) that relaxing didn’t seem like a part of his agenda. Maybe he’d grow out of it one day, but Mizael was still the youngest one and as much as he reeled himself in, he wasn’t exactly the best at keeping his cool. Meanwhile, Vector was leaning farther to the crazy side of the ‘mental state’ scale to be able to demonstrate any measure of calmness or insanity in situations. It made people think that he was a Drama major, but he was actually in Psychology. It was intimidating to know that Vector was able to switch gears at the drop of a hat, but at the same time it was fascinating because Durbe could never tell what would happen next with him. He never had to retort like Mizael because he was self-assured in the fact that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

And maybe that’s why Durbe turned him down in the first place; people like that were intimidating and it made Durbe feel all the more smaller. Mizael’s problems were social, Durbe’s were financial, and Vector’s were near non-existent -- and that had Durbe thinking that maybe he either hid them well or that he just hadn’t looked hard enough at his roommate to be able to see them. And for as much as Vector was a total asshole with a bit of a god complex and a tendency to embarrass the ever-loving dignity out of both Durbe and Mizael, the former still made the effort to look for the cracks in Vector’s armour. Everyone had them, so where were his?

“Got any plans for today?” Vector asked.

“Alit wants to go out later, but he doesn’t know what we should do yet. Gilag suggested bowling.”

“What about just catching up at Starbucks? I’m feeling lazy today.”

“Me too. I’ll text him later. Mizael would probably like Starbucks better, he’s been craving a Caramel Macchiato.”

Durbe could see Vector bristle at the last comment, a barely visible scowl crossing his face before his expression relaxed again and he was back to humming while flipping pancakes. He looked so damn domestic it hurt because Durbe still hadn’t really gotten that kind of vibe from Mizael. It was like his boyfriend was just too wrapped up in everything else to really be able to relax and settle in and not be on edge at all points of the day. His guard was always up, ready to lash out. It just served to further ingrain his inferiority complex that Durbe had figured out early in the relationship. And then there was Vector who just let everything slide and (according to him) only planned revenge plots when others crossed lines, which wasn’t often enough for Durbe to see the consequences of such an occurrence.

“The winter specials are still going, maybe I’ll try one of those this time.”

“Meanwhile I’ll be boring and stick to my black coffee,” Durbe said, taking a gulp of his water as he leaned against the counter. “I need it in order to deal with Alit’s energy levels.”

Vector smirked. “Luckily Gilag can keep up with the guy.”

Durbe slid the other full glass across the counter for Vector, who took it and downed half its contents. “Someone has to.”

A silence fell over them and Durbe felt its pressure. He just wanted to talk to him more. Find out more about him, his life, his background, his fears, his dreams. He wanted to get to know the person under the Adonis-esque exterior and he wanted to forget about Mizael for a moment just to indulge himself with these desires. It was awkward and stifling and watching Vector flip pancakes while shirtless was about as far as Durbe would let himself go with his rampaging thoughts that demanded he think about more. And then he did.

“Vector,” he said, his voice quiet because the walls were paper thin and he didn’t know whether Mizael was awake yet.

“Hm?”

Durbe looked at him, put his glass down on the counter, and mentally braced himself for the consequences of his next sentence: “I want you to kiss me again.”

Vector’s lips were on his in a flash, moving against his desperately. Durbe leaned into his touch, fingers curling over Vector’s shoulders and pulling him closer. This felt so different from the sometimes chaste and sometimes needy kisses that Mizael bestowed upon him. This felt… Durbe couldn’t place it, but he liked it and could definitely say that the alcohol was not lying to him about how he felt about it the first time around. When they finally pulled apart, Vector’s eyes stared into his with an intensity Durbe hadn’t witnessed before in any of his flirting.

But then the world came back to them with the sound of the fire alarm and Durbe quietly remembered, “Vector, your pancakes are burning.”

Vector straightened out and looked toward the skillet and sighed, his perfect record broken. “At least what I screwed them up for was worth it,” he said, and the sly smirk was back as he went to take them off the stove and turn the alarm off. “Sorry, I’ll remake them for you.”

“Let’s go out for breakfast today.”

“But you don’t have the money for that on top of Starbucks today.”

“We’ll cancel, it’s fine.”

Vector levelled a concerned gaze at him. “You sure? I still have an entire bowl of batter.”

“We can wrap it up use it for dinner. And Alit can wait another day or two. I just… let’s get out of here before Mizael starts wondering what the alarm went off for.”

Vector grinned. “Sure thing, just lemme put some clothes on first.”

Five minutes later they were out of the apartment and on the streets, and Vector teasingly called whatever it was a ‘date’ and Durbe couldn’t help but smile at the thought, happy to have a reason to push Mizael out of his thoughts for a couple hours.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens, yo.


	5. Haunted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mizael is hard to write so I ended up spending lots of time watching his episodes to make sure I got him down and I don't even know.  
> So without further ado, I present the chapter I rewrote six times because it was never good enough!

Durbe was acting weird. This was a conclusion that Mizael had come to only a week into the new semester, and he still hadn’t quite been able to put his finger on exactly what it was. Cold January air nipped at his nose and he adjusted the black fluffy earmuffs so that they didn’t interfere so much with his headphones. His walk home was a short one, but it was freezing and alone and hell if he was gonna subject himself to that without a scarf, a designer coat, mitts, earmuffs, and boots. The outfit was flawless, as usual, and he walked with an air of pride around himself because he looked good, he knew he looked good, and fuck the haters.

Well, everyone knew he looked good except for Durbe, who apparently hadn’t been home before Mizael left that morning for whatever reason. He didn’t have a class to TA for and he had no appointments or places to be -- he would’ve seen a note on the fridge otherwise -- so it was just… odd. Not to mention Vector was out of sight and, after a quick knock on his door with no tired, half-asleep moan in response, was also confirmed to be out of the apartment. They were gone, and it had only been just after eight in the morning.

What a pain to not even know where his own boyfriend was. Ugh.

So when Mizael finally reached for his keys to unlock the door to their empty, shared apartment, he was yet again surprised to see and hear no signs of either of his roommates. A week had gone like this. It was getting to be a little eery. Where the hell were they? Their university schedules had Durbe completely free today and Vector’s classes ended hours ago… normally they all tended to stay home whenever they weren’t needed elsewhere.

Mizael untied his boots and unraveled the scarf that he’d borrowed from Durbe’s extensive collection, about to go and hang it up with the rest of them, when he decided nah. The apartment was cold and it was warm and he was keeping it on (because it smelled like Durbe and he missed him like crazy, but hell if he’d admit it aloud, and god when was he gonna get home…?).

He went into the living room and pulled Vector’s iPod out of the dock and replaced it with his own before pulling his  headphones off and pressing play. EXO’s latest single, _Miracles in December_ started playing. It’s the kind of music that Vector can’t stand because he can’t understand whatever the hell they’re saying. Not to mention his tendency to create ridiculous Engrish versions just to annoy Mizael. So there was a rule, kind of like the couch rule but without the awkward TMI history surrounding the decision, that Mizael could only play his KPOP when Vector was out.

In the end, there was a positive side, a silver lining if the reader will, to the fact that both weren’t home today -- he was allowed to sing as loudly as he wanted as long as he didn’t disturb their neighbours.

So he sang as he tidied up the apartment, emptied the dishwasher, vaccuumed because he still had time to kill, and then started his homework (which he’d admittedly been procrastinating on, but it was boring and Durbe still wasn’t home to provide him with a distraction and enough lines about schoolwork being important for him to actually really give a damn). About five minutes into working, SHINee came on with their older song, _Lucifer_ , and Mizael… well, he left his homework on the coffee table and decided fuck it. They weren’t coming home. He was going to dance.

Embarrassingly enough, he knew most of the choreo to their new song. It was really awkward to do without the other parts in, because he only really knew Key’s part, but he shrugged to himself and pushed the coffee table out of the way just in time to join in at the chorus. He smiled to himself because hadn’t really had the chance to do this in a while -- Vector was just always around and Durbe only tolerated his slight obsession with the idols.

He’d nearly gotten his relationship issues out of his head with the KPOP singing/dancing/cleaning party of one when his cell phone started ringing. He stopped mid-move and inwardly groaned. The only person who ever called was Alit for what he called “emergencies.”

Mizael sighed and picked up his Android. “Hello?”

“Mizael!”

“Alit.”

“Know where Durbe’s at?”

“No.”

“Huh… okay weird, I thought you’d know for sure! Maybe I’ll try Vector.”

“Why would you do that? He wouldn’t know.”

“Really? They’ve been… ah, nah, never mind.”

Mizael blinked. And blinked again. “They’ve been _what_?”

He could imagine Alit shrugging at him and he scowled. “Oh, uh… nothing much, I’ve just seen them together around campus a lot. Durbe’s probably helping him with some school stuff or something.”

“I know you know more than that,” Mizael gritted out.

“Uhm… well. Yeah. Yeah I do.”

Mizael felt his hand clench the phone tighter. “So tell me.”

“Uh, gotta go bye!”

“Wait!” Mizael practically screeched, but the line was dead and playing that annoying tone at him and he fell back into the couch and stared at his phone and generally felt like he wanted to wring Alit’s neck.

Well, that was the most revealing and unrevealing conversation ever.

“Silence speaks volumes, asshole,” Mizael muttered to himself, promptly curling up onto the couch and wondering what the hell his beloved boyfriend could possibly be getting up to without him. SHINee was still blasting in the background, but _Lucifer_ wasn’t doing him any good anymore. He rolled over and groaned. _It explains why they always get back within ten minutes of each other._

“What am I gonna do?”

\--:~:--

Later when Durbe gets home and Vector arrives exactly ten minutes later complaining about something or another, Mizael has already holed himself up in his bedroom, headphones turned up loud enough to drown them out.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *plot intensifies*


	6. Jealous/No Angel

“I love you,” Mizael said to himself in the mirror. “And you’re worth more than this.”

It had been a month. An entire four weeks of knowing that something was going on that wasn’t supposed to be going on and being faithful to Durbe despite it all. Planning dinners and movie nights and dates and Starbucks trips and showering Durbe with all the things Mizael could think of, and all of his efforts only led to nights spent in his room burying himself in homework to distract him from thinking about what he’d done wrong. Durbe was distant and something was off and Mizael _knew_ what it was, but he couldn’t admit it to himself because Durbe was too good for that. He would never. So it had to be on him.

Valentine’s day was only a couple days away and Durbe still hadn’t said anything to him, hadn’t mentioned it at all. It fell on a Friday and neither of them had classes or obligations on Fridays so it wasn’t like they weren’t free.

Mizael wrapped another one of Durbe’s scarves around his neck, inhaling his scent and wondering whether things would ever go back to the fumbling relationship they had in September. Maybe they were just becoming complacent in the fact that they were together? Maybe he needed to try harder… maybe they needed to take a break.

His brow furrowed and he studied the crunch of skin in the mirror, glaring at himself because there was something wrong and it was his fault (Durbe just _couldn’t_ ) and this wasn’t working.

“You’re not at fault here,” he said. “And nothing is wrong.”

He blinked tears away, but they fell anyway and his hands clutched the counter and his brain reminded him that it was pretty clear what was going on and that he should just--

“He’s cheating on you.”

The line came out choked, a whisper of a thought, something that had taken him a month to say aloud and it hurt him and just saying it or thinking it was painful because he’d put so much into this damn relationship.

After washing his face and brushing his teeth and checking to see if his eyes were still bloodshot, he exited the bathroom and entered the rest of the apartment, empty as it had been since the start of the semester. He dug his Android out from his pocket and curled up on the couch. 11:34AM flashed at him as he unlocked the screen and opened up his texts. His thumb hovered over Durbe’s name, wondering what he’d be interrupting if he texted right then and there.

_Hey, Valentines Day is on Friday! Did you want to do anything?_

He stares at the phone until the words blur and his eyes are tearing up again. He's tired and it's barely noon, but he doesn't want to get up and he doesn't want to move and he doesn't want to exist for a while. His stomach is groaning at him, but he doesn't really care and mostly wants to sleep some more. What had even been the point in getting up? Oh, yeah. Class. That was important. Distracting. Maybe he'd start his homework. Or continue laying here...

His cell didn't ring with the EXO Growl tone that he'd set for Durbe's number. At noon he was fast asleep on the couch, oblivious to the world around him, phone fallen on the ground near his hand.

\--:~:--

Durbe came home just after lunch, his phone telling him that it was 1:07pm. Originally his plan had been to have lunch with Vector, but Mizael's text weighed on his heart and he felt bad for pretty much neglecting all of his attempts at romance for the past couple of weeks. He kept blaming it on school, on stress, on the responsibility he had over his students, but they were all cop-outs.  He just... still hadn't figured everything out yet. He felt as if he was stringing Vector along, but Vector was Vector and he didn't care if he was being used.

Mizael, on the other hand...

His hand dug his keys from his pocket and he turned the lock on the door. The first thing he noticed was Mizael's thin figure curled up on the couch, one arm hanging over the edge. He looked exhausted. Normally the kid wore eyeliner and concealer to make his face seem brighter, but it was obvious that he hadn’t made the effort today. Durbe frowned and took his shoes off before walking toward him and kneeling beside the couch.

“Hey Mizael,” he said quietly, only getting a grunt and a furrowed brow in response.

Durbe sighed. Something was wrong and he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was his fault (or maybe that was the guilt talking). Up close, he could see dark blue circles under his eyes. Upon further inspection, Durbe realized he’d lost weight too. He was only just fitting the clothes that had fit him so well only a little while ago.

Durbe’s stomach dropped, feeling the guilt he’d been trying to keep at bay by coming home early start eating him up again. Well, that plan wasn’t working.

“Mizael,” he repeated, quieter still as his shook his shoulder lightly. “Wake up, Mizael.”

His blond eyelashes fluttered open, brow furrowing again. “Go ‘way,” he grumbled, half-muffled by the pillow his face had been shoved into. “I don’ wanna talk to you…”

Durbe half-smiled at this. He sounded normal enough… but he could hear bitterness. “Mizael, want me to make lunch for us?”

“Mmf.”

“I’m taking that as a yes.”

Durbe wasn’t exactly the best in the kitchen, but he did know how to make a few things (like toast and scrambled eggs and grilled cheese and canned soup), so he figured he could whip something up for the two of them. It just so happened that they had canned soup (clam chowder, Mizael’s favourite), and everything needed for toast (bread), and so he had his plan set. As he started heating the soup up, Mizael stirred on the couch and began to push himself before apparently thinking better and falling back down, taking a pillow to the face.

“You alright there?”

“Mmf.”

“You’re very eloquent today,” Durbe said, attempting to get their banter back online.

Mizael twisted enough to get his lips away from the pillow before claiming, “You’re annoying and a terrible human being.”

“Wanna talk about it?” Genuine concern coated his voice.

“Not particularly.”

“Want to anyway?”

“Asshole.”

“Child.”

“Am not!”

Durbe hid a laugh. “You sure?”

“Extremely sure.”

Durbe just continued to stir the pot, watching as Mizael finally decided to seat himself upright on the couch and then slowly stand up onto his feet and make his way to the kitchen table.

“Sleep well, my prince?”

“Not at all. I feel like I got hit by a train.”

Durbe laughed. Mizael glared at him.

“It’s not funny! It’s really terrible! I didn’t even sleep that much last night and then I had an early class and just ugh I want to curl up into a ball and sleep forever.”

There were the dramatics Durbe was so used to.

“And then there’s you with all your being busy bullshit, god I can’t even spend proper time with you anymore and it’s completely and rottenly unfair.”

And there was the guilt, right back to eating away at Durbe’s insides.

“Just…” Mizael paused, suddenly eerily silent, chest caving in as he bowed his head to hide his eyes. “Just… I know, okay?” he finally said, quieter than Durbe had ever heard him before.

“Know what?” he asked.

“I know what’s going on. I know and I hate you for it.”

The kitchen fell silent as Durbe continued to stir the pot and Mizael laid his head down into his folded arms on the table. Durbe could hear him sniffle and he knew that Mizael was just trying to build a dam to save the both of them from fighting, from putting their emotions on the table and talking this out because he wasn’t ready for this (and if Durbe was honest, he wasn’t ready either).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but I'm also really not very sorry at all.


	7. Lay Up Under Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you guys get to find out who Vector's crazy ex-turned-friend-with-benefits is!

Vector wasn’t entirely sure what had happened, but the apartment felt hella cold lately, and he wasn’t talking about the temperature. Durbe was out of the house more and more often and had stopped answering his texts. According to Mizael, he wasn’t answering his either, so it made him feel marginally better that he wasn’t the only one being ignored.

In the meantime, Mizael was out of the house and had called in telling him that he wouldn’t be home till tomorrow. Visiting family, probably. Or… well, Vector didn’t know and he didn’t really care either. It just meant that he had the apartment to himself until Durbe came home (which wouldn’t be for a while if his recent at-home activity had anything to say about it).

So he invited Anna over.

Mizael only thought of her as his crazy ex-turned-friend-with-benefits, but she was more than that. She was Anna, the girl who had fallen head-over-heels for him and the girl who could tolerate his obsession with arcade and sprite fighters. She was his go-to when he wasn’t in a relationship -- and Durbe had made it pretty clear that everything relationship-wise was up in the air. So, Anna.

She sat in the kitchen, bare legs dangling from her seat at the island as he dialled the number for the pizza place down the street to order a large cheese. She smiled at him and he vaguely remembered when they were happily in love and wreaking havoc around campus. He almost missed it.

“Wanna play some Tekken?” he suggested after he hung up the phone.

“You have to kiss me every time I win!”

“What kind of kissing are we talking about here?”

Anna just laughed at him, sliding her foot up his leg. “Whatever kind you want, baby.”

They had set up the TV in the living room so they didn’t have to hide away in his room, and no one would be home anyway so they really did have the entire apartment to themselves. Anna bounded over to the couch, her miniskirt flashing the black lace that was underneath it, and Vector followed. Fifteen rounds later, eight of which had Vector kissing Anna senseless, the doorbell rang.

“There’s the pizza," he said, caressing her face like he used to after he pulled away. “Hungry?”

“For you, sure, but I guess I can settle for pizza,” Anna said, giggling at him as she jumped up to get the door.

She twirled back into the living room, pizza box in hand like a waitress with a bottle of Pepsi dangling in the other. “You ordered a large cheese pizza, good sir?” she said, laying it down on the coffee table before crashing back down onto the couch.

“Care to join me?” Vector asked, playing along with her game.

“Sure, sexy,” she giggled again, pulling him in for quick kiss. “Before it gets cold.”

As they ate, the selection screen music looped at them. Anna tucked her long legs underneath her as she used her hand as a crumb-catcher. It was when Vector took a second slice that he finally decided.

“So, you wanted an explanation right?”

Anna glanced over at him, a little surprised. “You’ll tell me?”

“Sure, why not.”

Anna shifted on the couch to face Vector properly. “Alright, lay it on me.”

He relayed the entire situation as far as he knew it, the awkward dates that Durbe always felt guilty about but never asked to stop with, the day that Mizael told him that he knew what was going on, the sudden coldness and lack of contact Durbe had with anyone. Vector shrugged at the end of it all, eyes glancing over at Anna who’d sat and listened raptly to the whole tale.

“Sounds like a dilemma.”

“Yep.”

“So, what are you gonna do?”

Vector remembered their breakup. A mutual decision, but it had still left Anna emotional and crying. At the time, he hadn’t cared all that much because it wasn’t like he had forced the decision. It had just kinda… came to be, and they accepted it.

“I don’t know. I might just tell Durbe to do what he wants because it’s what I’ve always done, but he’s shit at making decisions concerning his own life.”

“So you’ll make one for him?”

“I was thinking I’d move out.”

Anna’s eyes held concern for him, but he didn’t really need it. Not that he’d found another place to stay yet, but moving out was the only thing he could really think of.

“Where are you going to stay then?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know yet.”

Her hand reached out for his and the contact startled him. No strings meant no emotions, no concern, no… feelings. But he guessed he already broke that rule by spilling the entire ordeal on her.

“You can stay with me. Cathy’s gonna be moving out soon anyway, and if you come in then I don’t have to worry about finding a new roommate to split rent with.”

Vector frowned. “I’m not gonna make you do that.”

“I don’t mind! It’s no tro-”

“Anna, I don’t want to do that to you.”

She was the only one that hadn’t left him, hadn’t replaced him or lied to him. He didn’t want to break her again like this or give her that hope -- if Kotori’s words were anything to go by, even this whole arrangement had been going too far.

The pizza was finished. The Pepsi bottle only had a little left in it. Anna won another fourteen rounds of Tekken, making her score 22 to his measly 8. The kisses he awarded her with became that much more desperate. He wanted to take her again, like they used to, but a strange kind of guilt told him not to use her like this when he was already in the middle of a ridiculously cold, stagnant love triangle. What happened to not giving a damn?

“Hey Anna,” he whispered as they lay huddled on the couch together later on watching a movie -- the Dead or Alive one that both loved despite it being rather terrible -- “What would you do if I moved in with you?”

“Fall in love with you all over again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm only partly sorry about this chapter. Marginally.


	8. Start Over

April seemed to be the only month in which they all stayed home and all had to be within each other’s presence for prolonged periods of time. Exams were forcing them to hole themselves up in their rooms. Mizael had attempted to budget his wallet so that he had an excuse to study at the Starbucks near the complex, but found that he couldn’t study with all the noise and didn’t want his grades to be affected because he couldn’t stand being around his roommates. So he persevered and only came out of his room when he was hungry.

Durbe stayed home, with no more late nights out at Alit’s place or otherwise. He refrained from talking to any of them for the most part. He only had two exams, so he wasn’t as haggard and stressed as he had been the semester before, but he was still pretty haggard and exhausted regardless. He liked studying in the kitchen, but after some failed attempts at reconciling his issues with both Mizael and Vector, he decided it was just better to use the desk in his room.

Vector studied like crazy in his bedroom. He stayed over at Anna’s more often, and he helped her with her Chemistry while she quizzed him on his Psychology notes. But mostly he stayed in his room and attempted to distract himself.

The quiet lasted for two weeks and no longer. All of them were sick of not being able to talk and be in the same room. Vector offered to make dinner for them one night and Mizael and Durbe were quick to nod their heads and agree to it lest they had to eat another shitty microwave dinner.

“Let’s start over,” Vector said quietly as he put pinch after teaspoon of spices into a pan.

Mizael bristled from his spot at the island. “What do you mean?”

Vector sighed, his shoulders curling inward. “I’m going to move out. We can all get some distance from… everything.”

“Where are you going to go?” Durbe asked. “You can’t just leave without a plan.”

“And I have one. I’ll move in with Anna. I don’t really know what will happen beyond that, but I figure it’s a start, right?”

Mizael clenched his fists, slamming them on the countertop and getting up from his seat. “What? No! I cannot accept that.”

“What the hell are you talking about? I’m going to leave. Make this whole process easier.”

“No. No, no, no, you are not moving out,” Mizael said angrily. “You can’t do that, you can’t just come in, fuck everything up, turn this place into a hell, and then leave thinking it can fix itself!”

“Why not?” Vector asked, whipping around to face Mizael, who was beginning to shake with anger. “It’s obvious that Durbe can’t make his fucking mind up. I’m not gonna sit around waiting for him to make a damn decision. He can have you. I’m out, I’m done. You had him to begin with so keep him and I’ll leave you two alone.”

Mizael felt tears starting to well up in his eyes and cursed. “Do you seriously think that would make me happy? Make any of us happy?”

Vector began chopping up vegetables for the stir-fry. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t have a fucking clue, but I figure it’s better than being here.”

Durbe didn’t know what to say, but he felt the need to intervene and become the peacekeeper. But… what could he even achieve at this point when everything had already been said and done.

Vector slid the veggies into the pan from the chopping board and sighed. “We need a break. I’m willing to leave so that we can get one. You can have your time back to spend with each other. I’ll go.”

“Why aren’t you fighting for him?” Mizael asked quietly. “Why aren’t you telling me to leave.”

Vector shuffled the portobello mushrooms and peppers around for a moment before turning to him. “Because…” There were so many reasons for him to just wave the white flag of surrender and step down. So many reasons that he didn’t know how to voice or explain. Because he didn’t want to be the reason Durbe breaks like Anna did. Because he didn’t deserve that kind of happy ending. Because he didn’t fucking know why, he just thought it was fun, a joke, and then it wasn’t anymore. It was serious and he was serious and he didn’t want to deal with the consequences of some stupid decisions... “Because, Mizael… God, you know what. Fuck this. Fuck you for thinking I can explain that kind of shit to you.”

“What?” The blond looked a little taken aback by the sudden rage being directed toward him. He’d never seen Vector like this before. Normally he was just an asshole with a comedic agenda.

“I just. You can’t ask me that. Any other question but that. Fuck.” He couldn’t look at either of them, too angry at everything he’d done to end up in this situation. “Why don’t you give up? What if I threw that question at you? You haven’t been fighting either. We’ve just been waiting around trying to be patient and I can’t do it, I can’t wait any longer. It’s killing me to think something that I originally took as a joke could get so damn serious that it even got to this point. I don’t want to know the answer. I’d rather leave so that he never has to make that choice and I never have to find out.”

The room fell silent. Durbe wasn’t looking at either of them, finding interest in the floor tiles. Mizael huffed, but he had sat back down, a little shocked at the answer he had received.

The rice was done cooking so Vector took out three plates and started serving while he let the veggies simmer a little more, thankful that he was doing something other than letting them see him stand there trying to get his shit together.

Finally dinner was ready and all he could do was mutter an sardonic “Bon appetit.”

They took their usual seats around the table, silence reigning as they ate and attempted to wrap their heads around the night’s events.

 


	9. Crazy In Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At we're at the final chapter at last!! Hope you enjoyed the journey, I sure did :)

The fact that Vector was moving out put a bad taste in Mizael’s mouth. He didn’t like that he was just giving up -- that’s the last thing he’d ever do under normal circumstances. He was just too stubborn, too cunning for that.

Mizael was half-watching a movie playing on the TV, complete with the annoying commercials in-between because he was too lazy to switch the channel and too caught in his own web of thoughts to really pay attention to what he was actually watching (some action flick that doesn’t have enough shockingly loud music cues or gunfire to snap him out of his daze). It’s only when he hears a door open from behind him and the echoing roll of wheels on hardwood floors that he blinks out of his blur of thoughts (why is this happening, why is Vector leaving, why is everything such a fucking mess, why does this apartment feel haunted, ugh everything is just nope).

He turned his head to see Vector dragging his suitcase out of his room and adjusting the straps of his backpack. He frowned.

“Oh, hey Miza. I thought the apartment was empty.” Vector slung his headphones around his neck from their place over his ears. Mizael could hear heavy metal blasting through them.

“Durbe’s here too. In his room,” Mizael supplied.

“Oh.”

Vector began to move toward the door and Mizael could make out the bags under his eyes, the droop of his shoulders that couldn’t be blamed on the heavy backpack. He was about to unlock the door and be on his way when Mizael finally spoke up, interrupting his not-so-grand exit.

“So you’re just gonna leave? Just like that?”

Vector barely turned his head to answer, “What did you want me to do?” Mizael saw him smirk, but it lacked the usual cocky and challenging tilt.

Mizael got up and strode over to the door, turning to stand in the space between Vector and his escape route, and put his hand over the door-handle. “I don’t know what I wanted, but I don’t want you to leave.”

“Oh?” Again, but it lacked everything Mizael was familiar with. It was empty.

“You’re a complete asshole and this is your fault and I’m blaming you for this mess, but yeah. I don’t want to watch you leave. Not like this, it looks too… pathetic for you.”

Vector’s brow furrowed. The song playing through his headphones changed. “What?”

“You look like a total loser, Vector.”

“The fuck are you getting at Mizael?”

“Have you said goodbye to Durbe?”

“No.”

“Good.”

Mizael let go of the door and cupped Vector’s face with his hands before jerking him down to his level and kissing him. It didn’t last too long before Mizael pushed him away, huffing and red in the face.

“What the actual fuck, Miza--”

“We’re gonna work with this. Like, the whole… fuck, you know. We can all date.”

Vector stepped back, eyes narrowing. “Are you out of your mind? Have you taken up drugs or--”

“Shut up, goddammit,” Mizael said, exasperated and still out of breath. “If Durbe doesn’t want to decide then it just means he doesn’t want to lose either of us, right? So then this way he doesn’t have to. There, problem solved. Bow down, I’m a fucking genius.”

Vector breathed a sigh before straightening up. “Does Durbe know about this insane plan of yours?”

“No, but I figure he won’t really object. After all, it’s been like four months and he hasn’t done anything yet. You said it yourself, we should just take action for him.”

The corners of Vector’s lips turned up, whether in amusement or approval Mizael didn’t know. “You’re such a little shit.”

“That’s why he loves me.”

“And why does he love me?”

“Because you look like a redheaded Adonis. I happen to agree, in case that makes you feel like this plan is any less ridiculous.”

Vector sighed again before ruffling Mizael’s hair. Mizael scowled at him. “I’ll leave my stuff here, but I’m just gonna… head out for a while. I’ll bring back Thai for dinner.” He put his hands over Mizael’s shoulders to manually shift him away from the door much to Mizael’s chagrin. “Later.”

“Later, asshole.”

\--:~:--

Vector went to Anna’s house. He owed her an explanation that he was all too willing to give her: he wasn’t moving in, there was a change of plans and a possible future of threesomes where he’d figure out whether Mizael liked his hair to be pulled.

Well, less of the third part, but he was feeling optimistic and curious.

The first thing he did when she answered her door was pull her close and kiss her.

“What was that random act of affection for?” she asked, a little dazed and confused, taking a bouquet of pink roses that he proffered to her.

Vector shrugged. “I just have some news. Good news. And I wanted to give you a proper goodbye, unlike the shitty one we both went through last time we tried to break up.”

Anna looked up at him from the roses, something flashing through her eyes that he couldn’t place. “Goodbye?”

“I loved you Anna, don’t forget that.” He leaned down the catch her lips again and this time she met him halfway.

\--:~:--

There was something about Thai food that made their apartment seem like home. Maybe it was the fact that Vector’s suitcase was still at the door, never having left the apartment, that made Durbe feel this way, but when Vector came home, backpack slung over his shoulder and toting a bag full of red, yellow, and green curry, he felt a weight lift from him.

Mizael was smiling too. “Ah good, you’re back. I was getting hungry.”

“Yeah well, I wouldn’t keep the princess waiting.”

The atmosphere had changed and he didn’t feel so confused or empty anymore. Had a time machine set him back to a few months ago?

“So, are we telling him now or later?” Vector asked as he set the bag on the table and began withdrawing the delicious food, setting the kitchen in a scent of hazy spices and steamed rice.

Mizael shrugged. “You can decide.”

“Your idea, take charge oh one with the beautiful mane.”

Mizael rolled his eyes. “Whatever Vec,” he said before turning to Durbe and shutting his laptop.

“Hey, I was--” Durbe began to protest.

“Too bad, we have an important announcement to make!”

“What?”

“That’s the same thing Vector said, but I assure you I am a genius,” Mizael said, waving his hands around in what Durbe took as an interesting attempt to calm him down.

“Okay shoot, I guess?”

“We’re all dating now. Like, a unit. A boyband. A triple threat. Dating. All of us. Brilliant right?” Mizael explained, words coming out in an awkward staccato before he beamed at Durbe. “I am a genius, you can both shower me in flowers and kisses now.”

Durbe blinked a couple times, eyes going wide as he digested this information. Suddenly his hands shot out to grab Mizael’s shoulders. “You…”

“Yes?”

“Vector’s okay with this?”

Vector nodded from his spot at the island. “Hell yeah.”

“You’re a genius, Mizael!” Durbe exclaimed. “You’re also bloody insane, but I am completely okay with this. That’s why I love you.”

“That’s what he said earlier,” Vector said, smirking. “So let’s see if he was right about me too.”

“Why do you love Vector?” Mizael asked him.

Durbe raised an eyebrow, but he grinned. “Because he’s a redheaded Adonis.”

“Told you!”

Vector cackled. “Okay now that that’s all sorted the fuck out, can we eat? The princess said he was hungry.”

And just like that, everything was back to normal. Except this time, Durbe had two boyfriends.

\--:~:--

Mizael punished Durbe later by withholding any affection from him and laying all of it lavishly on Vector (who did not mind being used at all) until Durbe apologized for cheating on him, since it had still hurt and he still needed closure even though all three were together now.

It was a week later when Durbe brought home expensive flowers and chocolates and a Starbucks giftcard and recited a speech from dorky cue cards that he’d worked for ages on that Mizael finally accepted his apology for the pain Durbe had put him through and the three were able to start their awkward stumbling relationship (and Vector found out that Mizael really did like when his hair was pulled).

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I planned on having this kind of ending, but I didn't know whether you'd like it so I asked and hey you read my mind so here have polygamous relationships <3
> 
> And this marks the first ever multichap fic I have ever seen all the way through to the end! Congratz to me :D

**Author's Note:**

> You asked for College AU, so I gave you College AU + hormonal twenty-something-year-olds. Ah yes. Obviously a flawless combination for insanity.
> 
> Also you're getting a chapter a day for the next couple days because I couldn't finish all of it in time so yay a single present in the form of multiple chapters SO MULTIPLE PRESENTS? OR SOMETHING? YEAH.


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